


Evolution

by MelJoyAZ



Category: In the Company of Shadows - Sonny & Ais
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 08:56:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelJoyAZ/pseuds/MelJoyAZ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An interpretation of Zach and Emilio's post-Fade lives.  Explicit sex and language</p>
            </blockquote>





	Evolution

Zach Carhart lay on the couch about midnight, a book face down on his stomach, a glass of wine on the coffee table next to him. He was tired, and he wanted to go to bed, but he wouldn’t until Emilio came home. Zach glanced at his watch again.

He and Emilio had been living in this large anonymous city for about three months now, and it had been a little more than a year since the Agency implosion had left destruction in its wake and who knows how many people dead. Zach had been left for dead himself, but Emilio had gotten him out somehow. The man refused to talk details, saying that he didn’t have time to rehash shit that already happened, and what did it matter how it happened as long as it did? They’d gotten away clean, at least for the moment.

The first few months after their escape were a blur of constant motion. They never stayed any place longer than a few hours at a time, and Zach remembered hazy faces and voices, but nothing concrete. He knew somebody must have done surgery on him at some point but of course Emilio wouldn’t say who or where, just stared at him when Zach asked and said flatly, “ _You wanna send the guy a thank-you note or flowers or somethin’? He wants to forget he seen you just as much as I want him to forget he seen us. You still here, ain’t ya? That’s all that matters_.” So Zach dropped the questions, figuring that Emilio was right…he was still here, they were safe for the moment, so what did it matter how all of that had come about? 

They’d settled in this city finally, Emilio fairly certain that they’d shaken loose from whoever might be hunting them, and they had dared to rent a dumpy little flat with money that Emilio had managed to spirit away when they’d fled Lexington. It wasn’t much money, and so the two of them had had to find jobs. Zach had found a part-time job as a restaurant manager, and he went in a few days a week to work out employee schedules and do some hiring and firing, some problem resolution. It was mindless work, but he enjoyed the feeling of managing people again, even if it wasn’t nearly the same. Zach didn’t have any problem blending in with a fake name, just another face in the crowd.

His lover, Emilio Vega, was another problem altogether. The man was…well, he was unforgettable. His looks and mannerisms made him instantly memorable, so he’d had to be much more careful in his choice of employment. After a couple of days of searching, he’d come back with a job on a building site and each day thereafter went off to work bundled in shapeless coveralls, a bandanna wrapped around his black silky hair and topped with a hard hat, safety glasses muting his vivid green eyes. He was anonymous, “ _Just another spic working construction,_ ” he’d told Zach with a wink.

During the nights, though, he’d taken to disappearing into the shadows of the city to network with the local underground, _lo mas chignon back in business_. His forays kept Emilio and Zach in some small luxuries, some wine, a few cigars, occasional chemical happiness. One of Emilio’s first purchases with his shiny-new “paycheck”, a fistful of bills paid under the table, had been a small home gym that he’d bartered for and set up in the corner of their flat, a set of free weights, a pull-up bar and a heavy punching bag that he’d anchored from the ceiling. The gym wasn’t up to Agency standards by any means, but along with Emilio’s heavy work on the construction site, the combination of the two kept him in tip-top shape.

Zach had recovered almost fully from the shooting that almost killed him, and he was slowly working back up to the level of fitness he had been in before. Emilio had looked him over critically one morning as Zach had gotten out of the shower and pronounced that he _didn’t look like such a fucking scarecrow no more_.

Things were going as well as could be expected for now, and Zach was content. He and Emilio were together, and they were safe for the moment. Emilio’s level of contentment was another matter. Zach could tell that he was getting bored and restless with the simple life they led, and his craving for excitement and danger was keeping him out late at night doing God only knew what. Taking care of Zach and getting them from city to city in safety had consumed all of Emilio’s time and energy up until now; he hadn’t had the time nor the inclination for his usual…activities. But now that they were settled, that was bound to change soon. Zach’s jaw hardened whenever he thought about Emilio eventually going back to his MO of indiscriminately fucking everything that moved, even though he had a feeling that a lot of that in the past stemmed from Emilio’s anger at Zach, and a deep-seated bitterness. The man sure knew how to hold a grudge, and he could be a spiteful little shit.

Zach knew that for the past year Emilio had been stifling an essential part of his nature, and he didn’t want that for him. Still, every night that Emilio was out prowling the shadows of the city, Zach wondered if that would be the night that Emilio came home reeking of anonymous sex. He wondered how he would handle it when it finally happened.

Emilio walked in the door about 3 a.m., tossing his keys to the table and throwing his jacket over a nearby chair. Zach put his book down, watching as Emilio crossed to the little fridge and took out a bottle of water, guzzling it quickly. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and looked at Zach narrowly.

“What?” he grunted. Zach shrugged. He got up and approached Emilio in the guise of getting himself something to drink, his nostrils flaring as he leaned close to the other man and subtly tried to detect any hint of sex that might be clinging to his lover. He wasn’t as subtle as he thought, however. 

“Da fuck you doing? Every time I fucking come home it’s the same goddamn thing, you sniffing me up like a hound dog looking to piss on a fire hydrant!”

“I do not!”

“Such a lying sack of shit,” Emilio jeered. “What, you think I be out nailing everything that crosses my path?”

“Well, excuse the fuck out of me if that thought had crossed my mind once or twice, Vega! Not like you’ve ever restrained yourself before!” Zach wished he could take back the words the instant he’d said them.

Emilio got up in his face, his green eyes blazing fire, as he hissed, “What do you call the last fucking year then, General? Seems to me I’ve restrained myself pretty well since taking care of your shot-up ass and getting us away from psycho killers took up all of my fucking time. Seems to me your cock is the only one I’ve gotten up close and personal with since I fucking can’t remember when! I get no credit for that?”

Guilt and defensiveness made Zach lash out, even as his mind shouted, _Shut the hell up, you asshole_! “You want some kind of award from me, Emilio?” Zach hissed back. “Fine! Congratulations on not bending over for every dick that waves in your direction!”

“Fuck you, motherfucker,” Emilio snarled, whirling away from Zach and ripping his t-shirt over his head as he stalked to the corner of their flat and the heavy punching bag they had hanging there. He threw a blistering side kick at the bag, sending it crashing into a nearby wall. As it swung back heavily, Emilio evaded it neatly before pummeling it with a series of punches and hand jabs almost too fast to follow. His partially-unbuttoned jeans hung low on his hips, so low that a slice of pubic hair peeked over the top of the waistband. His silky black hair hung down over his face, his eyes murderous.

Zach stood up and approached warily, grabbing the bag and spotting it, holding it still as Emilio unleashed his fury on the bag, and therefore Zach, his thundering spin kicks, elbow jabs and punches sending the bag crashing into Zach over and over, one time sending him flying as the bag knocked him down. He got back up without a word and gripped the bag again, accepting the punishment, his eyes silently telegraphing his apology. Emilio didn’t back down until Zach went sprawling once again, and then he stood bent over, his hands propped on his knees, panting. His body was sheened with sweat from the workout, and it dripped from the end of his nose.

Emilio put his right hand up to his mouth and sucked the knuckles, and Zach could see that they were swollen and bleeding, Emilio not having taken the time to wrap them protectively before punching the hell out of that bag. Emilio saw him looking and sneered at him before moving to their tiny fridge again and grabbing another bottle of water. Zach stood up and moved in behind him, reaching into the freezer and taking out a frozen gel pack, then wrapping it in a dish towel. He held out his hand silently, holding his breath until Emilio placed his injured hand in his, and Zach wrapped the gel pack around the abused knuckles, hissing in quiet sympathy as Emilio winced. They stood there, looking into each other’s eyes, not speaking, until the gel pack warmed and Emilio jerked his hand away. His face was as implacable as ever, but when Zach moved behind him and reached around to put the gel pack back in the freezer for another use, Emilio leaned back against him briefly, resting his weight back against him so fleetingly, that it almost didn’t register. But Zach smiled with relief over the top of Emilio’s head, knowing that he was forgiven.

****

A little while later, Zach lay in bed, arms crossed behind his head, hoping but at the same time knowing that Emilio wouldn’t come to bed with him. He rarely did. The bed was small, and if they weren’t going to fuck, Emilio didn’t have much use for it. He wasn’t a cuddler or a snuggler – Zach snorted at the very idea – and he could sleep pretty much anywhere. He only slept for a couple hours at a time anyway, and then very lightly. Most of it stemmed from that time they’d spent on the run, Zach grievously wounded, when Emilio had been the only line of defense between them and capture. He’d gotten used to keeping watch, and even now he rarely let his guard down.

But occasionally Zach would wake in the night to find Emilio sprawled beside him, sound asleep, overwhelmed by sheer exhaustion. Then Zach would watch over him, lying silently beside him in bed for hours, marveling at the sheer tenacity and stubbornness of the man that had gotten them both this far. Zach didn’t remember a whole lot about those first few months on the run; his world had been filled with pain and the memories of gunfire and blood, the faces of those he loved ringed around him and drawn with horror. He’d slept a lot then, his body’s natural way of helping it to heal, but his brain rarely allowed rest. So many times he’d awoken screaming, in the grip of a nightmare, but always, without fail, Emilio had been there, murmuring, “ _I got you, General. I got you_.” Zach had never once woken alone. In time the nightmares had finally begun to recede, his body had recovered, and still Emilio kept watch. 

On those occasions that Emilio came to bed with him to sleep, Zach loved to wait until right before Emilio needed to get up for work, that darkest time of the morning right before the sky had begun to lighten, when Emilio was deeply asleep, then turn to him and slide inside him from behind, Emilio’s top leg lifted back over Zach’s hip. For those few brief moments before Emilio was fully awake, he’d let Zach just hold him, let Zach’s hands caress him as they moved together slowly. Zach would bury his nose in the back of Emilio’s neck, breathing in the scent of his hair, the lingering aroma of cigarettes and soap on his skin, just that unique Emilio-smell that Zach felt he could pick blindfolded out of a crowd of thousands.

Sex between them was usually a snarling fury, a tangled mass of bodies, of clashing teeth and tongues, gripping hands and clawing nails, filthy words and punishing cocks. They both loved it that way, it’s the way they wanted it, but Zach secretly cherished those oh-so-brief and very rare moments of true intimacy. He had a feeling that Emilio knew full well what Zach did on those occasions, and why, but as long as he tolerated it, Zach wasn’t going to do or say anything to bring it to his attention. Then he would stop allowing it. Just because he could. Because he was…well, because he was Emilio. Contrary, stubborn, tenacious…gorgeous, sexy bastard.

Zach sighed, wishing that he dared go out and see if Emilio was up to a bout of nasty make-up sex, but he didn’t dare rattle the man’s cage any more tonight. He winced when he thought of the harsh and unfair words he’d flung at him. Hell, he wouldn’t even be alive if it wasn’t for him, and really, considering their uncertain future, Emilio fucking around should be the least of his worries. He’d have to apologize properly in the morning. Zach sighed again, and drifted off to sleep.

****

Emilio let the weight bar fall back into the holder with a clang. He was probably making too much noise for the General to sleep, but at the moment he really didn’t give a flying fuck. He still had too much adrenaline burning through him from the fight with Zach to settle down. Goddamn, that dude had a knack for pissing him off. Who the fuck did he think he was, getting all accusatory and shit? Emilio clenched his teeth as he thought of the struggles of the past year, the running, the constant fear of discovery, the stress of being responsible for keeping more than just himself alive. Zach had circled the drain for several weeks before finally being deemed out of the woods, and Emilio would never forget the desperation he’d felt as it seemed certain time and time again that he would just lose Zach after all. Now they were finally safe, and healthy, at least for the moment, and all the dude could think about was where Emilio might or might not be sticking his dick. 

Which was nowhere; well, except for the occasional blowjob he’d gotten. No way was he turning that down. To Emilio it wasn’t much different than shaking hands, _Hey, nice to meetcha. Thanks for letting me come down your throat. See ya ‘round_. He snorted. But the difference here was, he hadn’t let anyone but Zach put anything in _him_ , and he had no plans to. Emilio scrubbed his hands over his face. He had never once cared in the past how his behavior might affect others, and he was trying really hard to care now; he liked being with Zach and wanted him to be happy. And since he was being so honest with himself and shit here, he had to admit that he missed fucking someone, that feeling of losing himself in someone else’s heat, of using them, pounding them both to a screaming release. The couple of times he’d tried it with Zach, the dude had become as rigid as a fucking board, his breathing speeding up, and not in a good way.

The thought made Emilio grab his weight bar again, and he hammered out several bench presses, grunting with exertion, until he was gasping for breath. He sat up and leaned his elbows on his knees, panting, unwilling memories washing over him, catapulting him back in time, a time where the constant clanging of barred doors opening and closing kept him from ever sleeping, where the shouts, moans and cries of imprisoned men was a cacophony that never stopped. He remembered Zach on his hands and knees on cold concrete, lust-filled voices surrounding them both.

“ _That’s it, fuck that bitch, man!”_

 _“Fuck, he’s lovin’ it. Tear that pussy up!_ ”

And Emilio, drunk on power and lust, ramming into Zach over and over, the sound of hard fucking echoing off the damp walls, his voice almost unrecognizable, a guttural rasp, “ _I’m gonna fuck you til you can’t fucking walk, bitch._ ”

He winced. He would never be sorry for doing what he had to do in order for them both to survive in that hellhole, but he wished the General would see that the man of twenty years ago was not the same man today. He wished that Zach could trust Emilio enough, especially after everything they’d been through, to let Emilio inside him again, to let Emilio prove to him that he would never fucking hurt him, use him, like that again. But Emilio didn’t see that happening anytime soon, and he buried his feelings under another punishing set of bench presses until his muscles were shaking and his mind was a comforting blank.

****

Several hours later, Zach padded into the kitchen, scrubbing his hands over his face blearily. True to form, Emilio was up and appeared to have been for a while. He wore a clean pair of work coveralls, the top part hanging down to his waist, a white wife-beater showcasing his powerful arms and shoulders. A red doo-rag was wrapped around his head, his silky black hair tucked up under it. 

Zach walked up behind Emilio and put his hand on the back of his neck, gauging his mood, gratified when the other man didn’t knock him down for touching him. Progress.

“Hey,” Zach said quietly.

“Mmmph,” Emilio grunted, handing Zach a clean coffee mug and waving toward the coffeemaker. “It’s fresh.”

“Thought you weren’t going to work today.”

“Took an extra shift.” Emilio shrugged. “Not much else to do ‘round here.”

Zach poured himself a cup of coffee, leaning against the counter and sipping it.

“Forgiven me yet?” he asked quietly.

“I just added it to all the other fucking black marks you is accruing, asshole,” Emilio said, though his voice lacked heat. “One of these days I’ll just say fuck it and be done with you, wait and see. You worse than any high-maintenance bitch.”

“Emilio,” Zach said, “I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

“Trust is a two-way street, and you’ve come a long way in learning to trust me –“ he chose to ignore Emilio’s muttered, “Blew that all to hell last night, didn’t ya,” continuing doggedly, “And I should try harder to afford you the same courtesy.”

“Since when is trust a fucking _courtesy_ , Your Lordship,” Emilio sneered. “You either trust someone or you don’t. You either work on it or you don’t. Seems like I’m the one doing all the fuckin’ work here, and let me clue you in on a little newsflash…none of it, and I mean none of it, is easy for me. And I don’t want no fucking awards but maybe a _Thanks, Emilio, you stupid son of a bitch, for saving my fucking life_ might be nice to hear once in a while.”

“I’m sorry,” Zach said again gently. “You’re right. I’m a total asshole.” He put his hand on the back of Emilio’s neck again. “Thank you, Emilio, for saving my life.”

Emilio grunted. “See, that wasn’t so hard. Fucker.” 

Emilio moved away from Zach, clearly done with what was for him an emotional outpouring. Zach’s lips quirked, watching as he pulled his coveralls up over his arms and fastened them. Emilio picked up his safety glasses and keys, shot Zach a narrow-eyed glance, and was gone.

****

Later that day, Zach returned to the flat after his shift at the restaurant to find Emilio in their bedroom, fresh from a shower, his hair still damp on the ends. He was casually dressed in jeans and a tight t-shirt, but he still managed to look incredible. 

“Going out?” Zach asked neutrally, starting to strip out of his own work clothes and heading for the shower.

“Yeah,” Emilio replied. He paused. “Wanna come?”

Zach blinked. “Sure,” he said. Invitations like that didn’t come all that often. Emilio preferred to prowl alone, telling Zach that he didn’t want to be responsible for watching anyone else’s ass but his own. When Zach had protested that he could watch his own ass, Emilio had given him a withering look.

“ _Don’t matter if you can or not. Fact is, I’d still be watchin’ out for you and I don’t fucking need that, aiight?_ ” Zach conceded the point; he didn’t really want to go out and wander the city anyway.

Now he asked Emilio to wait ten minutes while he took a shower. Emilio nodded, and disappeared out into the other room. Zach stepped under the warm spray of the shower, thinking about their recent fight and the subsequent conversation. As he absently soaped himself and rinsed, Zach tried to look at it all rationally. This was the longest that Emilio had ever been monogamous in his life, and it had to be wearing on him. Although Zach had no doubt that Emilio cared for him as much as he could care about anyone, it wasn’t in his nature to be faithful to one person forever. Emilio was right; he had been the one making more of the obvious effort in order to try and make this work, this — whatever it was. Zach couldn’t help but snort — _relationship_ and _Emilio_ were two words that had never been together in a sentence before. But Zach couldn’t deny that Emilio was trying, and had been for a while. That was more than he’d ever given anyone, and Zach didn’t want it to seem like he didn’t appreciate that gift.

He finished his shower and dressed quickly, following Emilio out the door. They walked slowly down the street, not saying a whole lot, Emilio’s eyes constantly moving as he scanned the area for threats. They turned down a nondescript alley and eventually stopped by a red door, faded and peeling red paint covering it.

“You sure about this, Julio?” he murmured, always careful to use his current alias when they were outside their flat.

“Gonna blow your fuckin’ mind, baby,” Emilio said with a smirk. “Some guys showed me this place the other night.”

When they’d gained entry, they paid a cover charge and Emilio led Zach down a narrow flight of stairs and Zach’s mouth fell open in shock. The place was huge, an enormous, gleaming bar taking up one entire wall, club patrons crowded around, bartenders busily taking orders. Groupings of tables and couches were scattered throughout, flanking a large dance floor where scantily clad men and women writhed together to music that pulsed and throbbed, the kind of music that Zach could feel deep inside.

Emilio led Zach deeper into the confines of the club, and there the purpose of the secrecy and underground nature became clear. There was blatant drug use going on in shadowed corners, and the sounds emanating from the small, curtained alcoves left no doubt about what was going on in them. It was reminiscent of J&J’s back in Lexington, and Zach looked at Emilio out of the corner of his eye.

“So you’ve been here before,” he asked, keeping his voice carefully neutral. Emilio gave him a wicked smile.

“Coupla times, get a drink, talk to some people. Do a little…watching.” He nodded toward one of the alcoves, the half-open curtain revealing glimpses of a woman, totally naked, bent over a table while a fully-clothed man, pants sagging open, was driving into her so hard the table legs scraped on the floor.

“And you just…watched?” Zach asked, still in a conversational tone, his hand sliding around Emilio’s waist and dipping down to squeeze his ass, hard.

“More or less,” Emilio murmured, pulling away from Zach with a slow wink and heading toward the bar. 

Zach took a seat on one of the couches, watching as Emilio leaned across the bar and beckoned toward one of the bartenders. The man turned, and a slow smile spread across his handsome face as he caught sight of Emilio. He came around the end of the bar and Zach’s eyes narrowed. The bartender was lean but muscular, shirtless except for a fitted vest, clad in skintight leather pants that showcased long legs and a tight, rounded ass. His hair was brown and thick, pulled back into a ponytail, blond highlights gleaming in the muted overhead lighting. Zach couldn’t tell the color of his eyes from where he was sitting, but the bartender had high cheekbones and a full mouth, the plump lower lip accentuated by a small stud that rested in the center right below it. Hoops winked from his earlobes, and some sort of tattoo wrapped around one muscular bicep, bared by the leather vest he was wearing. He was gorgeous, and Zach watched as Emilio’s eyes traced him slowly from head to toe. They seemed to know each other, and they murmured together for a few minutes before Emilio sauntered back to Zach, drinks in each hand.

Zach didn’t say anything, not wanting to start something when he and Emilio were getting along so well at the moment. He sipped his drink, looking around.

“What kind of stuff goes on here?” he asked. “Other than the obvious?” Zach nodded toward one of the alcoves, noticing a group of people standing around one of them, watching what was going on inside.

“Usual stuff,” Emilio replied. “Some high-stakes poker games and shit. I got a little money saved from those extra shifts I picked up, and I was thinking of buying in to one. Make us a little bank, try to get us outta this shithole.” Emilio looked at Zach assessingly. “You play poker like a boss, you should be the one going back there, not me. I ain’t got the patience to do it like it should be done.”

Zach chuckled. “I can’t see you sitting still long enough for the first hand to be dealt, much less play an entire game. All right. How about I wander back there and check it out? Make sure it’s being run properly, see what kind of set-up they have.” He stood, then rested his hand on Emilio’s shoulder when Emilio made to follow him.

“Stay out here and enjoy yourself,” he said quietly, his insides roiling a little. _He is who he is, asshole_ , Zach reminded himself fiercely. Emilio looked back at him searchingly, seemingly satisfied by what he saw in Zach’s face, then nodded. “I’ll just get another drink or two, wait for you here,” he said noncommittally. Zach squeezed his shoulder, then turned and walked away.

****

Emilio watched him go, a slight frown on his face. Zach’s eyes had seemed sincere enough when he’d said for Emilio to stay here and enjoy himself, but Emilio wasn’t about to take that as open invitation to just go do whatever the fuck he wanted. And honestly, there wasn’t a whole lot he wanted to do except — his eyes couldn’t help but stray to the bar, and his train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a feminine voice asking, “Wanna come dance with us?”

He looked over at the group of women that had walked up to where he sat on the couch, taking in the tight, low-cut dresses, the flirtatious smiles. Horny bitches with big tits that wanted to fuck him. Same shit, different city.

“Why not?” he said, letting them pull him up from the couch and lead him to the dance floor. Once they’d joined the throng writhing to the music, he absently pulled one of the women close, letting her grind on him, thinking with amusement that not that long ago he would have suggested they all bypass the dance floor completely and move straight to fucking. He could have that now, too, he supposed, but the appeal of indiscriminate sex just wasn’t there anymore, the frantic need to get off as often as possible with as many people as possible. Something inside him had calmed down a little in the past year. _Fuck me, I’m getting old_ , he thought in disgust, letting his hands wander over hips and asses as he danced with the women, enjoying the various sets of tits bouncing merrily in his face.

Suddenly he caught sight of the bar, and his eyes narrowed. Now that’s where he wanted to be at the moment. Emilio pushed the women away, ignoring the protests and the grasping hands, the bitches forgotten the minute he cleared the dance floor. He strolled toward the bar and the man that stood behind it, anticipation sharpening his senses. The opportunity for sex had always come so easily to Emilio. There was never any need to work at it; men and women spread for him at the snap of his fingers, and he found that he was really enjoying the thought of seduction, of drawing it out, the thrill of the chase.

Emilio perched on a bar stool, waiting to catch the bartender’s eye. What was his name again, Jack, Jake? The man had told him the other night, but Emilio had been too busy picturing him naked and bent over in front of him to really pay attention. Finally whoever he was made his way around the bar, sauntering slowly over to where Emilio sat on his stool. _Damn, he’s a hot piece_ , Emilio thought.

“Hey, Julio,” the other man murmured as he approached, and Emilio spread his knees a little, drawing the other man to stand between them. He rested both hands on the guy’s hips, letting his thumbs stroke the soft skin right above the low-slung waistband of the bartender’s leather pants.

“Hey,” Emilio said. Fuck, he couldn’t remember this guy’s name, either Jake or Jack, he was pretty sure. He really didn’t give two shits either way, but he supposed it was nice if somebody could remember your fucking name. He took a chance, “Jake, right?” The other man nodded and Emilio gave an internal high-five to himself. _Fifty/fifty chance_ , he thought with satisfaction.

Jake rested his hands along Emilio’s spread thighs, his fingertips stroking up and down. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he said in a rich, deep voice that sent shivers down Emilio’s spine.

“Yeah? Tell me what you been thinking about, Jake,” he said softly, his thumbs rubbing larger circles, tracing over the man’s jutting hipbones.

“Been thinking about you fucking me,” Jake whispered. “I can’t stop thinking about us in the bathroom the other night, how big you are, how much I want that inside me.”

Emilio smirked as he remembered the other night, stopping in for a drink, flirting with Jake, watching some of the action in the alcoves as he scoped the place out, Jake following him into the bathroom later and dropping to his knees. That had been damn good. Then Emilio had gone home to Zach and teased him into pounding him so hard that Emilio could barely walk the next day. That had been a good night, the best of both worlds.

“You’re with someone here tonight, though, aren’t you?” Jake asked, leaning a little closer.

“Yep. And that’s why I’m not gonna fuck you tonight, gorgeous.” Trailing his fingers down the other man’s thighs, Emilio let his hands drop to his sides. He stood up and leaned in, his lips brushing his ear. “But soon, aiight?” Emilio enjoyed the shiver that went through him at the thought. This was kinda fun, the teasing seduction.

Emilio saw out of the corner of his eye that Zach had come back into the main part of the club and was sitting on the couch they had vacated earlier. He winked at Jake. “Later,” he mouthed, turning and sauntering away.

****

Zach watched Emilio walking toward him, bemused by the change that he noticed had come over him the moment they’d entered the club. He could finally put his finger on it. Before Zach’s eyes, Emilio had seemed to morph from a vigilant, hard-eyed killer into a sex god; there was no other way to put it. His gait was suddenly looser, more rolling, seductive. His eyes had grown slumberous, heavy-lidded, and his whole face took on a sensual cast. He pulled the mantle of sex around him like a cloak, and he’d become nearly irresistible. Zach noticed how heads were turning and hot eyes were watching the man simply walk across the room, and he had to restrain himself from gripping Emilio’s bicep and hustling him off for home, to keep him all to himself. He thought about what he’d seen when he’d come back into the room, the bartender between Emilio’s legs as Emilio perched on the end of a bar stool, his hand resting on the bartender’s leather clad hip, his thumb stroking the bare skin right above it. As Zach had watched, he’d run his hand slowly down his thigh before letting it drop. Zach couldn’t recall seeing that particular expression on Emilio’s face before either, soft and seductive. 

Emilio sat down next to him on the couch, smirking, his eyes sleepy. “Whatcha thinking about, baby?” he murmured. And his voice was different, too, almost a low purr. Zach reached out, twining his fist in Emilio’s tight t-shirt, hauling him close.

“I’m thinking about how fucking sexy you are, and how I want to take you in one of those alcoves over there and tear your ass apart,” he hissed. 

“Don’t see nobody stopping you.” Emilio breathed, his hands dropping to Zach’s hips.

“I’m wondering about my level of competition here.” Zach jerked his head toward the bartender.

“Ain’t nobody competition when it comes to you,” Emilio whispered. “He’s just for fun, baby.” Zach looked searchingly at him for a minute, surprised by his candor, then he stood and yanked Emilio to his feet.

“Well, fun times with the hot bartender later. Get moving. We’re going home.”

Emilio’s eyes blazed at him, but he didn’t protest. As they left the club and moved down the alley, the heat in Emilio’s eyes, the sensual twist to his lips as he was undoubtedly thinking about the bartender caused lust and possessiveness to surge through Zach like a tidal wave, and he gripped the back of Emilio’s neck and shoved him face first against the dirty brick wall of the nearest building, pressing up against him from behind and holding him immobile. He gripped Emilio’s hair and yanked his head back, hissing in his ear, “You thinking about him, Julio?” Emilio moaned, shoving his ass back into Zach’s crotch and circling his hips.

Zach reached down and ripped the front of Emilio’s tight jeans open, thrusting his hand down inside and cupping his cock. “Who are you hard for, me or him?” Emilio didn’t answer, just thrust into Zach’s palm, leaving a wet streak across it. Zach rubbed his fingers across the head of Emilio’s cock, coating them with pre-cum, before reaching up and shoving them deep in Emilio’s mouth. Emilio sucked Zach’s fingers clean, his tongue flicking the tips, then nipping sharply. 

Zach pulled his fingers out of Emilio’s mouth and yanked Emilio’s pants to his knees, kicking his legs as far apart as they would go, thrusting his wet fingertips against Emilio’s hole and rubbing it roughly. He then shoved two fingers deep, reveling in Emilio’s pained groan at the stretch and burn.

“Yeah?” Zach crooned, moving his fingers in and out. “You need to get fucked right now? He get you hot for it?” Emilio threw his head back with an agonized moan as Zach spread Emilio’s cheeks and forced the head of his cock inside him.

“He got _you_ hot for it, apparently,” Emilio gasped, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“This what you want to do to him, Julio?” Zach whispered. “You want to fuck him like this?”

“Oh, fuck, yeah, I do,” Emilio moaned, pushing back, trying to force Zach deeper. “He’s got a sweet ass.”

“Can you make him beg for it? Like anyone could walk by right now and see you fucking begging for it?” Holding Emilio’s hips still, Zach shoved in the rest of the way, a moan breaking from his own lips at the heat and pressure of Emilio’s ass gripping his cock. Zach grabbed Emilio’s arms and wrenched them up behind his back, holding them there crossed at the wrist, Emilio’s face pressed against the brick.

“Want you to watch us, General,” Emilio gasped. “You like to watch? Wanna see me do this to him?”

Zach hissed, starting a brutal rhythm, long strokes alternating with short, sharp thrusts that made Emilio whimper in pleasure, the little sounds ratcheting up Zach’s lust until he lost all control. Holding Emilio’s wrists in one hand, he wrapped his other hand around Emilio’s neck, sliding up to just underneath his chin and yanking his head back. Emilio was totally immobilized by the grip on his chin and wrists, and the pants hobbling his legs.

“Yeah,” Zach groaned in Emilio’s ear. “Want to watch you fuck him til he screams.”

Zach fucked him hard, the sound of skin slapping on skin echoing in the dark alley, his grunts of exertion mixing with Emilio’s gasps and moans. Zach felt the contractions start deep in Emilio’s ass that meant the man’s orgasm was bearing down on him, and he released Emilio’s chin and pressed his wrist over his mouth, muffling the scream that Zach knew was welling up, and when Emilio came, he bit down hard on Zach’s wrist. The burst of pain, along with the feel of Emilio’s ass rippling around him and milking him, pulled Zach’s climax from him and he came long and hard, filling Emilio up and then some, the hot spunk overflowing and running down the inside of Emilio’s thigh.

They leaned against the wall, gasping for air, until Zach pulled out of Emilio, hissing at the stimulation to his oversensitive flesh, letting go of him completely and yanking his pants back up. He leaned against the wall, panting, while Emilio put himself to rights and then they stumbled down the alley on weak and shaky legs, heading for home. 

****

Emilio set down the hand weights with a clang, panting hard, sweat dripping off of him. After they’d gotten home from the club, Zach murmured that he wanted to take a shower and then would probably go to bed since he had to work the next morning. He leaned down and kissed Emilio almost gently before disappearing into the other room, and Emilio had headed straight for his weight bench, strangely energized even after the explosive orgasm he’d just had. Hell, no one could do him like Zach did. It was always so intense between them, like nothing Emilio had ever experienced before.

Now, despite the heavy workout, Emilio was still restless, and he figured a nice fat joint was what he needed to help relax him. He would take a quick shower, head out and find a dude he knew that sold some really good shit. Fuckin’ A, he thought. Perfect way to end the night.

As he passed the bedroom on the way to the shower, his eyes fell on Zach asleep in the bed. He was on his stomach, arms thrown up over his head, the sheet down around his waist. Emilio walked closer, admiring the sight of Zach’s muscular back, his powerful shoulders and arms, how relaxed his face was in sleep. He was…beautiful. Emilio’s lips tightened as what was becoming a familiar tide of emotion surged through him, and fuck if it didn’t piss him off. He didn’t like feeling complex shit, he wasn’t a complex kinda guy. Basic emotions, anger, sadness, whatnot…those were easy to identify, especially when it came to Zach. A little bit of guilt, a lot of protectiveness, sure. But some of the stuff that Zach made him feel Emilio couldn’t even identify, all he knew was that they made his chest ache. 

Emilio watched Zach sleep, seeing the steady rise and fall of his breathing, how boneless he looked, so relaxed. He figured he was safe to leave Zach alone for a while; he wasn’t showing the usual signs of the fractured sleep that sometimes signaled an impending nightmare, the muscle twitches, the restlessness. Emilio had promised Zach one night, a night when Zach had woken screaming, his eyes wild with pain and confusion, that Zach would never wake scared and alone, not ever. _I got you, baby_. Zach had calmed after that promise, and the nightmares had started becoming fewer, until they were almost non-existent. Still, before Emilio went anywhere at night, he always checked on Zach, assessing his comfort level. Tonight he seemed fine, and Emilio felt okay with leaving him for a while.

Just as Emilio turned to head for the shower, Zach shifted position, rolling onto his side. A lock of his overly-long hair fell down across his forehead, and before Emilio even realized what he was doing, he reached out and brushed it back, his fingertips running over Zach’s forehead lightly. _Jesus Christ_ , he thought in disgust, _next I’ll be writing poems to the fucking dude_. As he turned away again, he decided that after scoring his pot he’d better pick a fight or two, wipe the street with someone’s ass, take his goddamn balls out of the jar that Zach apparently kept them in next to the bed. _Fuck me_ , he thought, _I got it bad_.

****

A couple of afternoons later Emilio walked into the kitchen after work and threw a fistful of bills on the table, grinning at Zach.

“Got the last of the fucking buy-in right here,” he said. “Tonight’s the game. You in, baby?”

Zach grinned back, enjoying the sight of Emilio’s enthusiasm. He knew he'd been bored and restless lately, craving some excitement. The other night after their foray to the club and the sex in the alley that followed, Zach had woken early the next morning to find Emilio asleep on the couch, and he’d clearly been in a fight. Besides the scrape on one cheek from Zach shoving his face into the rough brick in the alley, Emilio’s other cheekbone was bruised and his lower lip split. His knuckles were swollen and bloody, but when Zach had shaken him awake in concern, Emilio had smirked at him, his eyes sparkling.

“ _Needed to renew my motherfucking man card_ ,” he’d said cryptically. “ _Some stupid asshole was in the right place at the right time_.” He’d winced, licking at the blood on his lip as it cracked open again. “ _And it pretty much sucks to be him right now_.”

He’d seemed okay and the police weren’t kicking down their door to arrest him for killing someone, so Zach shrugged and dropped it, hustling Emilio off to the shower so they could both get ready for work. They’d been late anyway when Emilio had pulled Zach into the shower with him, teasing him with soapy hands and hot mouth until Zach had picked him up and shoved him against the shower wall, Emilio’s legs wrapped around his waist as Zach had fucked them both to a screaming orgasm.

“ _Fuckin’ know how to get the day off to a good start, don’tcha, General_?” Emilio had murmured with a wicked smile as he’d run out the door.

“I’m in,” Zach said now, picking up the money and counting it. Emilio watched him, a little smirk on his face, and Zach put the money down and walked over to him, gripping him by the front of his work coveralls and pulling him close.

“You planning to have some…fun…while I’m playing poker?” he growled. Emilio raised an eyebrow, still smirking.

“I sure as hell ain’t planning to sit around this fucking place, being bored,” he murmured. Zach let go of him, turning to walk into their bedroom to change clothes. Emilio followed him, leaning against the doorjamb and watching as Zach stripped off his work clothes and pulled out some clean clothes from their miniscule closet.

“Zach…” Emilio began, and his tone was serious enough that Zach turned to look at him.

“If you don’t want me to, I won’t. You are the only person I will ever say that to, and I won’t ever say it again, so tell me now.” He’d dropped the street cant, and his eyes were steady on Zach’s. An ache grew in Zach’s chest as he regarded him. He dropped the clothes he was holding and turned to face him fully.

“Emilio,” he said, “I have to be completely honest here and say that I don’t want you to. But…at the same time, I do. I want you to be who you are. I don’t want you to change, because you’re who I – well, I want you to be happy,” he finished rather lamely. “And I want you to stay with me.”

Zach picked up the clothes again and pulled them on quickly. “I’m on that street with you, Emilio, that two-way street. Okay? I want you to go to the club. Have fun.”

Zach turned and walked out of the bedroom, leaving Emilio standing there staring at him. He went to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of wine, leaning against the counter and waiting. When Emilio finally appeared, Zach caught his breath. He was wearing dark distressed jeans slung low on his hips, a tight graphic t-shirt caught in his belt just in front, a leather cuff on one wrist and a couple of rings on each hand. Zach hadn’t seen the rings before but figured Emilio had scored them in his underground dealings.

He should have looked ridiculous, a 40-something man dressing like someone half his age, but he didn’t. He looked incredible, lean and muscular, his black hair artfully mussed, his green eyes vibrant and alive. The sight of him dressed like that for someone else sent a pang of jealousy through Zach and he surged forward and gripped Emilio by the bicep, hauling him close.

“Nobody fucks you,” he hissed, his free hand reaching back and grabbing one firm ass cheek and squeezing hard. “Got it?” 

Emilio’s eyes glittered, but he didn’t say anything and Zach took that as tacit agreement.

“Any other rules, General?” Emilio’s voice was mocking, and Zach grabbed him by his hair.

“Just one,” he said, and forced Emilio to his knees. Zach unzipped his pants and took out his cock, slapping Emilio’s cheek with it, his free hand gripping his face and squeezing, forcing his mouth open. Emilio leaned in and took Zach deep, holding Zach’s eyes with his. It wasn’t long before Zach was achingly hard, and he shifted his hold on Emilio’s hair, twining his fingers in, fucking Emilio’s mouth with long, punishing strokes until, with a groan, he came, watching Emilio's throat move as he swallowed every drop.

He pulled him to his feet by his hair, not caring that it must hurt, and yanked his head back to a painful angle. He ran his thumb across Emilio’s wet and swollen mouth.

“When you kiss him,” he whispered, “he’ll be tasting my cum on your lips.” Then he shoved Emilio back hard, watching him stumble and catch himself on the edge of their small table.

Emilio’s eyes were blazing hot, but all he said was, “Fuck you for messing up my goddamn hair.”

****

Zach walked silently next to Emilio as they made their way down the familiar dark alley to the club door. He let Emilio go down into the bowels of the club alone, Emilio not saying anything before he left, but the deliberate brush of his fingers against Zach’s hand as he passed by had made Zach smile faintly.

After several minutes of leaning against the wall outside the door, Zach finally made his way down the narrow staircase into the main room of the club, the throbbing beat of the music washing over his senses. His eyes scanned for Emilio, not seeing him at first, but Zach noticed that Jake the bartender was still at his place behind the bar. His gaze seemed fixed on a point in the distance, though, and Zach tracked his line of sight and finally saw Emilio out on the dance floor. He was surrounded by a small group of scantily-dressed women as they danced, and not much of Emilio could be seen since the women seemed to be taking turns grinding up against him. There were flashes of familiar tattooed hands skimming over hips, asses, backs. Emilio was smiling faintly, his whole attention fixed on who he happened to be dancing with at the time.

Suddenly Jake threw his bar towel down and appeared to punch a time clock, stripping off his leather vest and stuffing it under the counter before striding toward the dance floor, bare-chested, his body moving fluidly as he made his way toward Emilio. When he reached him, he gripped the front of Emilio’s t-shirt and brought him flush against him, Emilio’s hands falling to leather-clad hips as they moved liquidly, sensually, writhing close together to the beat of the music. Zach was transfixed by the display, by Emilio’s lean body, the way his shoulders and hips rolled and moved, his hands gliding up the bare skin of Jake’s sides and back before dipping down to grip his firm ass and pull their groins together. They went into a slow grind, and it was almost like watching them fuck on the dance floor. Zach was motionless as he watched, the poker game completely forgotten, heat sending small frissons through his body.

Emilio and Jake’s parted lips rubbed together lightly as they danced, not really kissing, just letting the heat and moisture of mouths, of the almost kiss, tease the other, drawing out the anticipation. Emilio slid one hand up Jake’s back and carded his fingers through his thick hair, slowly tilting Jake’s head to one side so Emilio could drag his parted lips up and down the sensitive tendon in Jake’s neck. Zach forgot to be jealous as he watched Emilio’s moves in fascination. He was weaving a sensual spell around that young man, and Zach realized he’d never seen Emilio in seduction mode. The way Zach and Emilio liked their sex, there was never any need for seduction between them, for slow teasing, for ramping up the heat to unbearable levels. The fire was already there between them, and neither one had the time or patience for foreplay.

On some level Zach knew that Emilio had to have moves, or he wouldn’t get as much tail as he did, and actually seeing it happening right in front of him was throwing Zach for a loop. He had to admit it was really fucking hot.

Emilio was mouthing up and down Jake’s neck, down to his shoulder, his hands on his ass rolling their hips together to the sensual throb of the music. Jake still clutched the front of Emilio’s t-shirt as he anchored himself, his head thrown back, his lips parted. Emilio finally pulled away slightly, turning Jake so that the other man’s back was to Emilio’s front, Emilio’s hands splaying across Jake’s flat abdomen. He started a slow movement toward the edge of the dance floor, easing Jake toward one of the vacant alcoves, dancing him through the other people in a sensual weave. 

Zach watched as Emilio finessed Jake into one of the alcoves, pulling the curtain firmly shut, indicating that they didn’t wish to be watched by outsiders. Zach waited a few minutes, shifting on his feet, half-aroused and antsy, before he sidled up to the alcove and slipped through the curtain to the inside, making sure it was pulled completely shut again. It was semi-dark in the alcove, the light shining from under the curtain the only illumination. Zach quietly moved into the shadows of the little room, opposite the couple pressed against one wall. He saw with a jolt that Jake seemed to be completely naked, his leather pants in a crumpled heap on the ground. He was leaning against the wall, Emilio flush against him, still fully clothed. They were kissing, slowly, deeply, and as Zach watched, Emilio slid his hands down Jake’s arms, pushing them up over his head.

The music still throbbed, but the heavy curtain muted it somewhat and Zach was able to hear Jake whimpering, “Please,” and Emilio murmuring back, “I know how you want it, gorgeous, slow and easy. Gonna tease you til you can’t take no more. I know that’s how you like it.” Jake whimpered again, and Emilio chuckled, the sound low and sexy, and just like that, Zach was hard as a fucking rock. Jesus, if Emilio ever talked to him like that, Zach would have his knees in the air in a flash. He’d have to…mention that…to him.

Zach shifted position so that he could see a little better, and he watched transfixed as Emilio traced Jake’s lips with the tip of his tongue before dipping inside his mouth. Jake sucked on Emilio’s tongue before Emilio grasped his chin, holding his head still while he ravaged Jake’s mouth with his, dark satisfaction streaking through Zach as he remembered his earlier words, _He’ll be tasting my cum on your lips_. Zach could see Emilio’s tongue thrusting deep before he broke the kiss, his fingers leaving their grip on Jake’s chin to slide deep between his swollen lips. 

“That’s right, suck those fingers, sweetheart,” Emilio crooned. “Get ‘em nice and wet, oh yeah, just like that.” Emilio thrust his fingers in and out of Jake’s mouth a few times until they were coated with his saliva, and Zach felt his cock pulse as Emilio trailed them lightly down Jake’s chest, circling one of his nipples before sliding them down Jake’s side to disappear behind him.

Emilio bent and took the wet nipple into his mouth, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked, and suddenly Jake gave a little sobbing wail, his back arching again, and Zach groaned under his breath as Emilio twisted his wrist, thrusting deep inside Jake with his fingers. Jake lifted one leg and wrapped it around Emilio’s waist, his hands still thrown up over his head, his hips undulating as he fucked himself on Emilio’s hand.

“That’s right, show me how eager you are for it,” Emilio purred around Jake’s nipple, his tongue flicking, his teeth nipping. Jake cried out suddenly, his head thumping back against the wall, his mouth falling open as he panted hoarsely.

“Oh, is that it?” Emilio murmured. “Is that the spot?” He twisted his wrist again, and the sounds Jake made had Zach ripping the front of his own jeans open to give his erect cock some relief from the tight constriction. He stroked himself slowly as he watched and listened.

“Yeah, that’s it. It aches, don’t it, sweetheart?”

“Please, Julio,” Jake whimpered.

“Sweet ache, deep inside,” Emilio whispered. “I’m gonna make it all better soon, I promise.” He lifted his head from Jake’s chest and kissed him again, and Zach could see his arm moving as he continued to fuck Jake with his fingers until he was a writhing, begging mess, his skin sheened lightly with sweat. Goddamn, Zach was loving this side of Emilio, the sensual torture, the dark, crooning words. He spit into his palm and then jacked himself while he watched, his free hand sliding down to fondle and roll his balls. He bit his lip against a groan as Emilio finally relented, pulling his fingers free and lowering Jake’s leg back to the floor.

“Don’t want it to be over too soon,” Emilio murmured, pressing on Jake’s shoulders until he knelt. Then Emilio undid his pants, releasing his cock.

“Get it ready for you,” he breathed, then groaned, his head dropping back, as Jake took him deep. Zach panted, watching with hot eyes as Jake pulled back to mouth the tip of Emilio’s cock, his pink tongue flicking around and around, before taking it to the back of his throat again. Emilio gripped his head and ground into him, circling his hips, before letting him pull back with a gasp.

“Damn, kid, you’re good at that,” Emilio gasped. Jake smiled at him with swollen lips before swallowing Emilio again, bobbing up and down a little faster, his fist following behind his mouth as he worked Emilio over. Emilio moaned, and his head dropped back again, falling to the side as he caught Zach’s eyes. They stared at each other for a moment before Emilio bit his lip and his eyes scanned down Zach’s body to where Zach’s hand was busily working his aching cock. Emilio raised his eyes to Zach’s again, then gave an audacious wink before turning back to Jake, grasping his hair and pulling him off with a pop.

“Don’t wanna come too soon, Jake,” he murmured. “Got plans for that sweet ass. Get up here.” Emilio pulled Jake up, grasping his chin and kissing him again, sucking and biting at his lips. Zach found himself licking his own lips to the rhythm of them kissing, his breathing rough. He looked down his body, watching the swollen head of his cock appearing and disappearing as he thrust himself through the tunnel of his own tight fist.

Jake whimpered, and Zach looked up in time to see Emilio shove him face down over the small table in the room. He leaned over him, snugging his saliva-slicked cock into the cleft of Jake’s ass, thrusting slowly, dragging the ridge over the sensitive nerves of Jake’s entrance. Jake thrust back at him, almost sobbing, “Please. Julio, please, fuck me.”

Emilio pressed his hand onto Jake’s lower back, holding him still, as he continued that slow thrust and drag. Finally Emilio paused, yanking his t-shirt over his head and throwing it to the side, leaning down to press his chest against Jake’s back, his lips to his ear.

“You ready for me, kid?” he breathed. “’Cause when I fuck, I like to go deep, hard and fast.”

“Yes,” Jake gasped. “Oh fuck yes.”

Emilio reached over to the discreet basket of lubes and condoms that was sitting on a low shelf near the table, grabbing a bottle of lube and dribbling some down the crack of Jake’s ass, catching it up in his fingers and massaging around Jake’s hole before thrusting two fingers deep. Jake reared up off the table, his mouth open in a scream, as Emilio scissored his fingers wide, hissing as he did, “Come on, gorgeous, clamp down on those fingers. Show me how much you want it.” Zach could see Jake’s entrance stretched wide around Emilio’s fingers and the fluttering as Jake worked the muscles, contracting hard. Zach bit his lip, his hand dropping to the base of his cock to squeeze, staving off the orgasm that threatened to boil up out of his balls at the sight.

“Oh yeah,” Emilio growled. He pulled his fingers free and quickly donned a condom before lining up and thrusting deep, a guttural moan breaking from his lips as Jake’s ass clamped tight around him.

“So hot, so fucking tight,” Emilio grated. “Sweet, sweet ass.”

He started a steady rhythm, pulling almost all the way out and then surging back in deep, his hips slapping against Jake’s ass with each downstroke. He was relentless, holding Jake down with his hands on his lower back as he fucked him hard.

Zach’s hand flew over his cock, riveted by the sight of Emilio’s muscular back, his buttocks flexing, his jeans drooping around his thighs, his belt buckle making a clinking sound as it smacked into the edge of the table. His skin was sheened with a light layer of sweat, and his silky black hair flopped into his eyes with his sharp, controlled movements.

Zach couldn’t help it, he let go of himself and moved up behind Emilio, both hands coasting up the smooth plane of his back, feeling the bunching of the muscles as Emilio moved. Zach slid one hand under Emilio’s arm and brought it up to rest over his heart, feeling the beat speed up and Emilio’s breath become ragged as Zach pressed close. His free hand ran down Emilio’s other side to rest over Emilio’s bare hip, his fingertips riding the movement as Emilio thrust into the man beneath him.

Emilio moaned, tipping his head back to rest it on Zach’s shoulder, one arm coming up behind him to wrap itself around Zach’s neck, his movements becoming ragged, less controlled. Zach exulted in the way Emilio responded to him, and he leaned down and pressed his lips to Emilio’s ear and whispered, “You’re beautiful like this.”

Zach didn’t clutch Emilio to him, didn’t hamper his movements in any way, just enjoyed the motion of Emilio’s body as he fucked into Jake, the brush of Emilio’s bare buttocks against Zach’s cock as he pulled back and thrust forward, the warmth and moistness of his panting breath against Zach’s neck and the sound of his little hitching moans as his orgasm approached.

As Emilio’s body started to spasm in pleasure, Zach slid his hand down from Emilio’s hip and cupped Emilio’s balls, rolling and squeezing them, taking Emilio through it, milking every drop from him. Emilio groaned Zach’s name long and low in his ear, and the sound, along with the sight of him in the throes of pleasure, Jake’s hoarse screams as he came hard underneath Emilio, caused Zach to erupt in climax himself, hot jets of cum spurting against Emilio’s low back. The dark little room was filled with the sound and smells of sex, and it was the hottest thing Zach had ever experienced.

Emilio let go of Zach and collapsed forward across Jake’s back, and Zach stumbled away on shaky legs, leaning against the opposite wall as he tried to catch his breath. Emilio was murmuring to Jake, and Zach put his clothes to rights and slipped through the curtain, stumbling up the stairs and exiting the club, taking deep gulps of the cold night air.

****

Zach stood just outside the club, waiting for Emilio to finish doing whatever it was Emilio did to extricate himself from situations like this. He really didn’t have wait long, straightening up from his slouch against the wall as he exited the club and sauntered over to him. They stood for a moment gazing solemnly at each other, the ambient streetlight the only illumination. Emilio looked sated and relaxed, his vivid green eyes shining, his body loose and free of tension. Zach couldn’t help himself, his hand reaching out to brush against Emilio’s cheek.

“I love you,” he whispered, before dropping his hand back to his side. Emilio looked steadily back at him before shrugging, but one corner of his mouth quirked up in a small smile. They turned and started for home, and when Zach stumbled over a loose paving stone and would have gone down hard, Emilio’s arm wrapped around his waist like a steel band and steadied him.

“I got you, baby. I got you,” he murmured. Zach smiled inwardly. Three little words, Emilio-style. It was enough.


End file.
